reefs out of my hind legs, and spun down the
river road like a deer, for I see our chance; and I made up my mind
that it would be a long day before they ever see me and Jim again. I
got down there all out of breath but loaded up with joy, and sung out:

"Set her loose, Jim; we're all right now!"

But there warn't no answer, and nobody come out of the wigwam. Jim was
gone! I set up a shout--and then another--and then another one; and
run this way and that in the woods, whooping and screeching; but it
warn't no use--old Jim was gone. Then I set down and cried; I couldn't
help it. But I couldn't set still long. Pretty soon I went out on the
road, trying to think what I better do, and I run across a boy
walking, and asked him if he'd seen a strange nigger dressed so and
so, and he says:

"Yes."

"Whereabouts?" says I.

"Down to Silas Phelps's place, two mile below here. He's a runaway
nigger, and they've got him. Was you looking for him?"

"You bet I ain't! I run across him in the woods about an hour or two
ago, and he said if I hollered he'd cut my livers out--and told me to
lay down and stay where I was; and I done it. Been there ever since;
afeard to come out."

"Well," he says, "you needn't be afeard no more, becuz they've got
him. He run off f'm down South som'ers."

"It's a good job they got him."

"Well, I _reckon!_ There's two hundred dollars dollars' reward on him.
It's like picking up money out'n the road."

"Yes, it is--and I could 'a' had it if I'd been big enough; I see him
_first_. Who nailed him?"

"It was an old fellow--a stranger--and he sold out his chance in him
for forty dollars, becuz he's got to go up the river and can't wait.
Think o' that, now! You bet _I'd_ wait, if it was seven year."

"That's me, every time," says I. "But maybe his chance ain't worth no
more than that, if he'll sell it so cheap. Maybe there's something
ain't straight about it."

"But it _is_, though--straight as a string. I see the handbill myself.
It tells all about him, to a dot--paints him like a picture, and tells
the plantation he's frum, below Newr_leans_. No-sirree-_bob_, they
ain't no trouble 'bout _that_ speculation, you bet you. Say, gimme a
chaw tobacker, won't ye?"

I didn't have none, so he left. I went to the raft, and set down in
the wigwam to think. But I couldn't come to nothing. I thought till I
wore my head sore, but I couldn't see no way out of the trouble. After
all this long journey, and a